


Into Thedas

by JadedNightwing



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Modern Girl in Thedas, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2018-12-25 13:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12036519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadedNightwing/pseuds/JadedNightwing
Summary: How can you tell if you're dreaming or changed from one level of existence to another?All Jenna knows is that, right now, she knows what can happen and she has a limited amount of time to attempt to change events.I don't own anything related to the Dragon Age franchise.... I don't even think I can claim Jenna at this point, she's taken on a will of her own.kudos & credit to ElyssaCousland -senpai for the inspiration for this fic :D





	1. Voices

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [There and Back Again](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085037) by [ElyssaCousland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElyssaCousland/pseuds/ElyssaCousland). 



> I have waffled on the notion of posting this for almost a year now, but I'm just gonna put it out there and see what comes. I'll try to come up with an update schedule, but for now, it'll be sporadic....

“Sarcasm,” my grandmother intoned gravely, her accent swinging from the practiced British tones to the more guttural Chechnyan of her youth growing thicker with every syllable, hiccupped briefly before continuing on her tirade; “is a sign of weakness, Genevieve. Perhaps if you held your tongue more often, you would be married as well. You had such a wonderful thing with Nicolas, but you just couldn’t hold your tongue.”

I grit my teeth in silence while watching my brother, Dylan, dance with his new wife. A sarcastic quip about how, despite her and my mother's efforts to the contrary - my name is Jenna. Just Jenna.  
I also wanted to point out that I wouldn’t want to bring a pathological liar and remorseless cheater to my brother’s wedding, no matter what his family connections. It would set a bad example.  
Ruthlessly I managed to suppress both urges.

Being recently single while attending a wedding sucked.

Pressing against the pressure points along my eyebrows, the faint pulsing of a migraine beginning to stir, I glanced around the room in search of something to use as an excuse to leave my grandmother’s intoxicated ramblings. God love her, when she starts drinking, the avaricious snobbery she spent most of her life trying to emulate becomes more than my good humor can stand. Breaking into her long-winded explanation about how I’d be engaged by now with a nonchalant, “Excuse me, Gran," I stood and walked away.  
Leaving her sputtering gave me no small amount of pleasure.

Retreating to the dark corner behind the table of wedding gifts, I slid down the wall and, after popping a couple pain killers, pulled out my phone and opened the book I had recently picked up. It was a companion story to a game I had finally gotten around to playing, called Dragon Age. My oldest brother, Issac, had picked it up several years ago and had encouraged me to play.

_/’You’ll love it, Jen. It’s epic fantasy. And it has 2 follow up games so-far, but you’ll definitely want to play them in order.’/_

I’d put it off over and over again, telling both him and myself that I didn’t need another epic fantasy to get lost in. School, work, dating, hobbies; those were more important. But, late one night when I couldn’t sleep, I finally decided to give it a try. From that moment on, I was hooked. I’d recently finished playing the most recent game of Inquisition, and it was my favourite among all the games thus far. Political and religious intrigue, monsters both human and beastly, and magic that was feared instead of valued all culminating in a cliff-hanger ending — I was addicted. I had joined forums, read fan-written theories and head-cannons, and still couldn’t get enough. I’d even started dreaming of Thedas, which was both entertaining and a little irritating. I’d taken fangirl to a whole new level, and my brothers teased me mercilessly about it.

Trying desperately to lose myself in the story, the pounding behind my eyes was growing steadily worse. Turning my phone off, I pressed the heels of my palms against my closed eyes and breathed. I’d been having headaches for months, but this one was tuning up to possibly be the worst yet. I felt more than saw two people pass me, but the snippet of conversation caught my attention.

“Tamlen, we should go back and bring the Keeper here. She may be able to decipher what the writings say,” a young woman said in a hushed voice, as if she was afraid to draw attention.

“Don’t worry so much, _lethallan_ , we should scout the place out first before we bring the Keeper here. For her safety,” came the amused male reply.

Those casual words brought my head up, entirely confused as it was both familiar yet completely out of place. At first, I thought maybe I had misheard a conversation - or my mind was adding hallucinations on top of the migraine - but the swinging door leading to the kitchen and storage rooms caught my attention.

Deciding to investigate, I shakily got to my feet and pushed the door open only to see no one there; all the catering staff were currently manning the food serving stations - though the kitchen smelled amazing - and the wedding cake was beyond gorgeous. Following the long hallway leading to the storage rooms, a part of me was beginning to be convinced I’d simply made it up. _‘This is what you get for getting so involved in your fandoms, Jenna: you start hearing things.’_ Feeling more than a little silly, I was about to turn around and once again brave the crowded party when I heard a gasp behind me.

“Look at this!” came an excited male voice, “What do you think it means? I’ve never heard anything about elves living under ground.”  
I barely caught the muffled voice from the closed door that I hadn't noticed on my way in. Curiously, I poked my head into the darkened room. Rows of storage shelves stuffed with boxes and rows of colorful outfits confirmed my assumption - this had to be the costume and prop storage. Hearing more muffled conversation, I frowned before entering the room, “Hello? Excuse me, but no one should be back here.”

When no response came, I began weaving my way through the narrow walk space. Using my phone as a flashlight, I called out again and again but never got any response. When I turned a corner, I nearly gave myself a heart attack when motion caught my attention out of the corner of my eye, and had the knee-jerk reaction like I was about to walk into someone. I gave a shaky laugh when I realized it was just my reflection in a full length mirror. Backing up a few steps, my heart skipped a beat. The face was the same; the large bright-green eyes surrounded by white-blonde hair; but my reflection’s clothing was entirely different. Then a figure appeared behind her and I began feeling faint.

“What is it, _lethallan_?” The young man had sandy blonde hair with pale brown tattoos across his face, and a buzzing filled my ears.

“Let’s get out of here. This place makes me nervous,” he said and backed away.

The pain in my head seeming to pulse with each step, I inched closer to the mirror as if being drawn by a magnet, barely registering my reflection’s murmured, “Just a moment...this mirror... it’s the only thing here that’s unbroken. I want to take a closer look.”  
I watched in terrified disbelief as my hand lifted in the exact mirror motion as my reflection’s and the moment both our fingers made contact with the glass, the pain in my skull expanded and ricocheted along my entire body. Crumpling to the floor, I struggled against the pain and briefly registering that my phone was chirping and vibrating in my hand before my mind went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to NeyvnSlash for the wonderful constructive criticism - hopefully the chapter reads a little more fluidly now


	2. Mirrors

When I next opened my eyes, I had no idea where I was. The rock cavern was dark and smelled of dust, mulch, and, surprisingly, old books. Rubbing a hand against my temple, where pain still lingered, I rolled onto my side and studied my surroundings; the childish part of my mind dancing in a circle and chanting ‘we’re not in Kansas anymore’ in a sing-song like voice.

I couldn’t disagree. As if the game designers had come here for inspiration, the beautiful, nearly pristine mirror was displayed in the dim lighting of the cave. I'd played the Dalish origin so many times that I almost knew this cavern like my own bedroom.

Then the events just before my blackout came rushing back, and I scrambled to my feet. Circling the space, I found no trace of the elves. If I’d entered Thedas, Alice-in-Wonderland style, they’d still be here wouldn’t they?  
I huffed in irritation, frustrated with myself, as I realized I'd been assuming things. While a small part of me was unconvinced that _this_ was Thedas when in theory I could have landed in Oz, or Narnia, or even traveled back in time while remaining on Earth - every instinct in my body simply _knew_.

So, working on the instinctual assumption that I was indeed in Thedas -- if someone had burst through a mirror on Earth, I’d have run screaming for the hills too. Still, if they were smart, they’d be bringing a contingent of hunters from their clan. My only hope was to either try to get back through the mirror or wait and see if Marethari would be willing to hear me out instead of having me killed outright. 

While a part of me was tempted to stay, I knew I wouldn’t last 5 minutes alone in Thedas. If I was being honest with myself, I was also completely terrified. There was a huge difference between reading about adventure and living one - and I was not quite ready to live this one. Stepping up to the mirror, my lips pursed and studied my reflection and briefly wondered if she and I had merely switched places.

Dylan, being a consummate nerd, had majored in cultural literature, and he and I had debated about the theory that Earth and our plane of existence was some sort of nexus where the events in other universes converged on some sort of subconscious level that we interpreted as dreams or inspirations. Dylan had been the skeptic, while I could never shake the feeling that it had some level of truth to it.

Briefly glancing down at myself, I had to do a double take as any semblance of rational thought flew from my mind. I wasn’t wearing the pantsuit I’d worn to the wedding. Instead, I was decked out in well worn, if ill-fitting, leather and had a dagger tucked in the wrap-style boots at my ankle. Raising both hands to my ears, my fingers slid over the elongated tips that I was pretty sure I’d never had before now.

Mind reeling, I replayed everything and tried to pick apart what had happened. Over and over again, I tried to rationalize what had happened only to come up with one, completely ludicrous conclusion.

While the whimsical part of me had readily accepted that I’d traveled to Thedas — truth was sometimes stranger than fiction, and so could be told as fiction to those who would not believe it — I’d thought that either the elf and I had simply switched places or I’d entered Thedas and they’d run for help.

But if we’d merely switched places, why would I have elven ears and be wearing the armor? I doubted very much that transference worked that way — though without previous evidence, who could really say?

In a panic, I pressed both hands against the mirror and braced for the onslaught of pain again, only to feel nothing but the cold, smooth surface of the mirror beneath my fingers. Leaning my whole body against the mirror, I could hear my own jagged breathing echoing in the cavern, and I started to beg. What I begged for, I couldn’t say; my knees buckled and I fell in an uncoordinated heap to the stone floor, still pressing against the mirror in hopes that I’d simply fall through it like someone rapidly opening a door I was leaning against.

My hysteria ran hot and wild through my veins, and I lost all sense of time passing, but it eventually passed and I lay at the base of the mirror completely exhausted. My face was stained with dust and tears, and violent full-body shivers wracked me from head to toe, yet a sense of calm began to descend on me. Memories of my numerous playthroughs began to speed behind my eyelids, not to mention the secondary information provided or dreamt up by the fandom that had just seemed right to me, all of it began to coalesce into a plan of sorts. I knew what could happen and what to expect, and there were several things that I could change, hopefully for the better.

_‘So,’_ I sat up and began to tick off my thoughts on my fingers, _‘one; I'm still in this cave. Which means that, assuming he's making his way though the cave right now, Duncan chose to go to one of the other origin stories.’_ I paused for a few moments, listening intently in hopes of hearing booted footsteps from the halls beyond this room. When none came, I sighed and nodded to myself, _'This means I'm on my own.'_

_ ‘Two,’_ I ticked off on a second finger, _‘I have either merged with this Dalish hunter or have taken her place. Regardless, I don’t feel sick, but I cannot discount the possibility that the body has become tainted. If so, I need to get to Ostagar.’_  
_‘Three,’_ another finger, _‘I don’t know how to get to Ostagar. I would need a guide.’_

Then a crazy thought flitted through my mind and I froze. Merrill. It would keep her away from the mirror, and would get me to Ostagar. Then I could get her to the Hawke family, and they could protect her until she could be reunited with her clan near Kirkwall.

“As good a plan as any,” I mumbled, shakily got to my feet, and turned to look at the mirror, “Now, what to do with you?”

Eluvians were rare, but were also dangerous. I doubted anyone would come looking for it, but considering that humans had found this place first, I couldn’t trust that they wouldn’t try to come and try to take it.  Not to mention, if there was any truth to the origin and my arrival was just a fluke, this one was tainted. Yes, it could be my only way home, but I was not about to leave it to potentially infect or kill anyone else.

Grimacing, I found a large rock and squared off with the Eluvian. Meeting the eyes that were identical to mine in every way, I whispered, “I hope you can forgive me.  I’ll try to find out what happened to us, but I have to try to save everyone else first. ”

I shattered the Eluvian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cleaned the chapter up some


	3. Insecurity

I slowly picked my way through the cavern, hoping that the elves had managed to disable any traps they'd come across on their way in. The corpses of the blighted bear and giant spiders made my skin crawl, but I kept moving - all the while keeping an ear out for any other living creatures in the caves. Thankfully, the Dalish origin has always been my favourite, so the path was vaguely familiar to me. Still, I continuously double checked every step I took until I reached the steep incline that led to the mouth of the ruin. Blinking rapidly in the muted sunlight, I climbed up and took a deep breath, fighting to ignore a tide of rising fear. While I loved the games and any sort of adventure books, living an adventure was very different.

A part of me still wanted to just laugh it off and say ‘this is just a dream’, but part of the many debates I'd had both with myself and with Dylan had always been: "If you could change the course of history (or a story in this case) - would you?" Though I had always quibbled over semantics and fine details - my ultimate answer had always been yes. If I knew what was coming, and had a chance to change what I knew would happen, then Yes - for good or ill - I would attempt to change things. Now it was time to find out if I was all talk but no show...

Following what I could make out as the curving path from the game, I eventually came across the Dalish camp. As expected, there were sentries posted near the entrance to the camp and they eyed me curiously, and I hesitated. The Dalish are inherently wary of spirits, and with good reason. I couldn’t just waltz into their camp and announce to the Keeper that while I may look exactly like her hunter, I was not.

“Da’len?” a soft voice questioned, and a lovely older female elf looked at me with worry, “What happened? Where is Tamlen?”

I opened my mouth, but no words came. Swallowing hard, I tried again, “He’s gone. I need to speak to the Keeper.”  
"She's in her tent," one of the sentries said, eyes narrowing, "What happened?"  
Seeing several more clan members approaching, I squeezed my eyes shut, "Would someone go and bring her here? I don't want to endanger anyone."  
Concern rippled through the growing crowd, the sentries notching their bows instinctually, and I wrapped my arms around myself. This was the first test among many. If I couldn’t convince Keeper Marethari, I had little hope of convincing anyone else. 

Marethari hurried forward, Merrill and a few others following, looking me over from head-to-toe with concern. Stopping in her tracks, her wide eyes seeming to grow wider as she looked me over again, then hissed, “What have you done, demon?”  
Her accusation rippled among the elves who were within hearing distance, and many reacted as I’d expected. The sentries drew back their bows and took aim at me, while others backed hastily away, but I remained as still as possible.

Bowing my head, I lifted a hand to cover my heart, “Andaran atish’an, Keeper. I am not a spirit nor a demon, though I have no way to prove that to you. An ancient artifact, filled with the same taint as that which corrupts darkspawn exploded, and it somehow drew me here. I cannot tell you any more than that, because I am unsure of anything more myself. As for your other hunter... I’m sorry, Keeper, he was gone before I awoke. I hoped he’d returned here for help, but if he was somehow corrupted by the artifact... if he isn’t dead now, he will wish he was in a few days. As it is, I am unsure whether or not I have been affected by the taint, but I know where to find someone who would. But I need your help, if you’re willing.”

Marethari studied me for long moments, “What is it you ask?” she asked hesitantly.  
“Your first, Merrill. I ask that she guide me to Ostagar, where the human king is gathering an army to fight the rising blight. The Grey Wardens are there, and they have the ability to sense the taint, and they have the knowledge that could save my life if I was exposed.” 

The camp erupted in anger, many shouting to have the Keeper refuse and kill me, but I saw Merrill look between me and her clan, clearly torn.

The Keeper raised a hand, and the camp fell into an uneasy silence, “This is no simple thing you ask. Merrill is a valued member of our clan, and you say you are all but walking into a war-zone.”

“I know, Keeper,” I sighed, “However, consider this; I come from a world far beyond the fade, and in that world - your story has already been told. I was never able to change events, but this is a rare and unique opportunity. I want to help protect your world, but I need help to do so.”

I saw the Keeper jerk at the mention of another world, and Merrill’s eyes light up in interest. I closed my eyes tightly, “I would submit myself to whatever tests you would wish to conduct, but I don’t have the time. I must set out before sunset - with or without your help.”

“I will go.” The soft declaration had the entire camp turning to look at the young elf. Merrill looked almost as surprised as everyone else by her words, but met my gaze and tentatively smiled, “I don’t know why, but believe her...it. Besides,” she looked at the Keeper with an almost defiant tone, “If a blight is starting, we have ancient treaties with the Grey Wardens to help. It can’t hurt to have someone there to represent the Dalish in this time.”

Marethari seemed to be struggling with the decision, so I decided to use my last ace, “I cannot promise you safety, Merrill, but, should we survive, I know someone who can help return you, and hopefully this hunter, to your clan. But we must hurry.”

That seemed to be the deciding factor for the Keeper. With a hesitant nod, she turned to Merrill, “Dareth shiral, Da’len. We shall pray to the ancestors that you return to us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh... not a huge fan of this chapter. Marethari is not an easy character to write well, and I don't know how to make it any better.... *grumble*  
> 


	4. Travel

Merrill and I both traveled extremely light, carrying only thin sleeping rolls, water skins, and each a small satchel of food that should last us until we reached Ostagar. She and I talked little in the beginning, but she soon got over her hesitation and peppered me with questions about what I knew of Thedas and possible outcomes.

“Honestly, Merrill,” I panted as I struggled to keep walking, “Everything I’m telling you could very well never happen now.”

At the top of the hill we’d been climbing for the past twenty minutes, she waited with all the patience of a saint, yet gave me a perplexed frown, “Why is that?”

Finally reaching the top of the hill, I collapsed onto my side and panted a moment, before answering; “There’s a theory, where I come from, where the very fact that I am here and have changed certain events will have a cascading ripple effect from here on out. But I have to believe that all this isn’t random. Fate, the Maker, your creators - who knows, but I just can’t shake the feeling that someone is pulling the strings.”

She stared at me in obvious confusion and I couldn’t help but laugh, “I don’t suppose you’ve seen a puppet show, have you?”

“Only from a distance,” she stated simply as she knelt down and took a sip from her water skin, “what does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s a saying from my world, ‘to pull the strings’”, I replied with a grin, “Puppets act out little scenes for the audience, but they are all controlled by their puppeteer - who is quite literally pulling their strings. So the phrase means that there is someone who is manipulating people and/or circumstances to suit their preferred outcomes.”

She chuckled and stood, offering a hand, “Come on, spirit, if we are to get to Ostagar in time, we need to keep moving.”

I grumbled but dragged myself to my feet. I’d thought myself athletic, but this pace was grueling. Arching my back and feeling the satisfying pops along my spine, I studied our surroundings, “How much farther is it?”

“A few days, depending on how fast we travel,” she said then pointed at a break in the tree line a few miles into the valley below, “We’ll camp at the river tonight, and start moving again at daybreak.” Eying me speculatively, she continued, “I don’t suppose you know how to hunt, do you?”

I shook my head, but the river had given me an idea, “No, but I know how to fish if you know how to prepare it.”

* * *

The trip to Ostagar took longer than Merrill had predicted, mostly because of me and my lack of stamina. The majority of the second and third days we traveled in silence; I’d made the thoughtless mistake of letting what happened to Tamlen slip out, which she pounced on and would not let up until I told her all of it. The story hit her harder than I’d thought it would have. I tried to apologize, attempting to instill hope that maybe because of my arrival, he’d hit his head or had run away to get help only ended up getting lost, but nothing helped. So I kept my distance and allowed her to grieve.

It was dusk on the sixth day when we crested the ridge overlooking the basin with Ostagar castle looming above. Already I could smell the bonfires that dotted the bridges and sections at the base of Ishal tower, and a shiver of fear raced down my spine. There were already soldiers on the field and the roar of battle was beginning to rise. My chest felt tight and I was running before I had a chance to really take in everything before me. I stumbled and fell, nearly skidding off the edge of the cliff if not for Merrill, and I just laid there a moment staring out at the chaos below.

“We’re too late,” I whispered and Merrill gripped my shoulder.

The storm clouds that had been brewing overhead began to swell and arcs of lightning began to crackle and spider out along the underbelly of the storm.  I shakily got to my feet, my heart growing heavier with every step. Moving along the edge of the cliff, I glanced up and saw that the beacon of Ishal was lit, and knew there would be no help from Logain now.

Staring down at the battlefield, I searched for the glint of golden armor, but bellowing roar of an ogre is what drew my focus. I watched as it charged forward, and knew where it was headed. Everything below seemed to unfold before me as if in slow-motion and all the anxiety, fear, and now impotent rage I felt boiled up.

Tilting my head back, I whispered, staring up at the sky and with the absurd notion that there really was someone there just waiting for me to ask, “If all this isn’t an accident... if there’s truly a purpose for my being here, please... just let me help them.”

With that one request, I felt all the fine hair on my arms and neck stand up, and felt something akin to a water balloon bursting over my head.  Running on pure instinct, I closed my eyes and built an image of a bolt of lightning striking the ogre before it had a chance to lay one grimy finger on Cailan or Duncan in my mind. Snapping my eyes open, an arm lifting over my head and, as if all the emotions I had been bottling up since the moment I made the decision to stay and try to help - all of it suddenly draining out of me, I brought my hand down and _directed_ all of that energy down onto the battlefield. Wind began to howl around me, as if following my silent commands, loose funnel clouds touching down well behind the darkspawn line and the clouds above lit up with bright purple electricity, randomly striking down upon the battlefield. There were several lucky strikes against genlock mages and hurlock commanders, but the largest bolt centered solely on the ogre.

The crack of thunder was ear-shattering, yet I couldn’t help the laugh that rose in my chest. I could clearly see Cailan standing not two feet away from the now smoking husk of what was an ogre, now very black and very crispy, and he looked around him as if he wouldn’t believe what had just happened.

The edges of my vision began to gray, but I waited until Duncan arrived to back up the king, then turned to look at a very stunned Merrill. The world kept spinning and my knees buckled, but I managed a garbled, “So, that’s what Storm of the Century looks like,” before sinking into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh, I hate using the cliche "character passes out" thing, but I promise! this is the last time it will happen for a while!  
> hopefully I made it a little more clear as to who was directing all that crazy weather this time around... ^_^;;


	5. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took so long to get this chapter out! it took a few tries before I was satisfied with how it came out, and then holidays and various other distractions happened.

My mind was muddled and filled with disjointed images.  At first, I’m sleeping in my parent’s parlor, warm and safe; then I’m eleven years old and dancing with my father, standing on the tips of his carefully shined shoes.  We make a turn, and I’m on stage, practicing for a ballet performance I despise while my grandmother looks on from the third row - reeking of arrogance and judgment.  Then I’m with my brothers fishing when the ground seems to slide out from under me and I find myself crumpled on the edge of a cliff while the sky above seems bent on tearing itself apart.  Nothing seems real until a sharp slap across my face brings reality into sharp focus.  
A dark haired young woman seemed to be shouting something at me, but it takes a moment before I can actually make sense of what she’s saying.  
“—need to move.  Please, spirit!  You need to wake up!”

Giving my head a slight shake, I instantly regret it as my whole sense of equilibrium tilts and wobbles so wildly that I have to fight the urge to gag.  Muttering darkly, I roll to my side and breathe deeply through my nose for several moments.  Lifting a hand towards Merrill, I manage to choke out, “Help me up.  Did you see where the humans went?”  
Merrill’s fingers trembled even as she pulled me to my feet, then caught me when my knees began to buckle again. “They ran shortly after you riled the storm.  The hoard seems disoriented, but they won’t stay that way for long.  You haven’t said what we’re supposed to do after saving the human king, but we need to get away from here.”  
“Agreed,” I mumbled, staggering beside her as we began moving quickly as I was able, “We’ll need to try to keep up with the survivors, but ultimately we need to get to Lothering - do you know where that is?”  
“I do, though in your current condition, keeping up with the humans will be difficult,” she grunted as I stumbled into her.  “You’re also going to have to explain what you did.”  
“What do you mean?”  
Merrill huffed and I saw her roll her eyes in apparent exasperation, “I’ve heard of spirits doing many things, but I’ve never heard of any granting magical abilities to someone without any to begin with.  Not without corrupting them into demons.  But I could feel you pulling down the storm, so there’s no doubt in my mind that you have mage abilities.”

Before I could even attempt to form a reply, a sudden movement in front of us caused Merrill to shriek and loosen her grip on me just enough that I couldn’t stay on my feet.  As exhausted as I was, I barely managed to catch myself before my face met the dirt.  There was a brief burst of action, most of which I missed completely as I struggled to remain awake, that when I looked up it took me a moment to take in and understand what had happened.  
Apparently a genlock scout had found its way up the cliffs and had started charging towards us.  It hadn’t made it very far.  Merrill, whom I’d learned during our trek to Ostagar, was gifted with ice and frost magic - and in the split second that she’d dropped me, had frozen the genlock solid.  Whether it was her magic or the sword through it’s chest that ultimately killed it was really anyone’s guess.

An irritated growl floated through the air as a human man’s face appeared from around the genlock Popsicle.  “Hey!  I had this handled!  You didn’t have to freeze my bloody sword too!”  
The voice seemed so familiar,  but I could feel exhaustion starting to pull me back into darkness that it was a struggle to stay conscious.  
Merrill tried to shield me from view, her staff in hand, but the human approached us seemingly unconcerned, “I had no idea that there was a Dalish camp so close or we’d have told you to leave days ago.  You’re both lucky I had already made it up here, or you’d both be dead.  Or worse.”  
I let my head sink down to the ground, all my strength evaporating.  Closing my eyes, I muttered hopefully loud enough to be heard, “If you’re waiting for a Thank you, could you maybe wait until we’re in a safer location?”  
 Merrill hissed at me, while the man laughed.  When a pair of arms lifted me from the ground, I whimpered softly, feeling very much like I was little more than a rag doll. I was jostled and repositioned briefly, and I could hear Merrill attempting to argue with the human, but he seemed to pay her no mind as we started moving at a fast clip.  Letting my head loll back, I stared at a blurry profile, blinking several times before the two points of dark hair and the familiar voice finally triggered the recognition.  Knowing that we would be safe for a little while, I managed a slurred, “S’ok, Merrill… We’ve got a Hawke to…pro…te…”  before I lost my grip on the waking world.

* * *

When I opened my eyes again, it was very dark.  For a split second, I panicked.  I flailed briefly, but the back of my hand smacked against skin, and a incensed “Ow!” seemed to echo briefly before a pair of small, slightly calloused hands grabbed mine and a soothing voice hushed me.  
“Breathe, spirit, just breathe.  You’re safe, we’re resting in a cave a few hours outside of Lothering.”  
“Merrill?”  I panted, my heart racing, but as the memories of the last few days came rushing back, my panic subsided.  Collapsing back, I wriggled my hands free and covered my upper face with them, grumbling, “Are you ever going to use my name, Merrill?  I swear it’s not difficult.”  
A sputter of laughter just above where my head was laid, made me grin as I dropped my hands and tilted my head back to look at a highly amused Carver, looking so close to his default setting that I felt a warm wave of fondness flood through me.  I’d always had a soft spot for his character - brat that he was - so seeing him here and alive made me so very happy.  
“I hope I didn’t smack you too hard,” I wrinkled my nose playfully at him, “I tend to wake up swinging.  Force of habit when you have two older brothers.”  
He chuckled, “Caught me by surprise, but no harm done.”  
I gingerly lifted myself up to sit, a fretful Merrill close at hand, but I managed to get upright with only lingering dizziness; “How long was I out?”  
Carver shrugged, leaned to look up at what sky was visible, “Two days, more or less.  My brother and I would often dare each other to explore the ruins of Ostagar when we went out hunting, and those trips took over half a day to even get close,” he pointedly looked at me, “I was weighed down this time around, so the trip took a little longer.  Your friend here didn’t help much.”  
Merrill squawked, “I don’t know you, human!  You just appeared, swept up my kinswoman, and started running.  The only reason I didn’t turn you into a pillar of ice was her apparent trust of you!”  
“Speaking of which,” Carver returned his focus to me, “I’m pretty sure we’ve never met before, yet you apparently know my family name and look at me as if you’ve known me for years.  Care to explain?”

I cleared my throat lightly, looking away. “It’s… well… Complicated.  And I seriously doubt you would believe me if I told you, so let’s just say that I have had… visions of what is coming.  I’m pretty sure I managed to avert one disaster…Oh!”  I gasped, and looked at them both, “Any sightings of the King?  He did make it, right?”  
“King Cailan and those who survived are about a mile ahead of us,” Carver confirmed with a nod, “They had more wounded and had several darkspawn packs hunting them.  From what I could tell - the Grey Warden had to actively pull the King from the battlefield, not that he fought very hard.  I think…”  He paused, seeming to consider the best way to describe his thoughts.  “When that ogre started charging him, he finally understood how how badly he had underestimated the darkspawn threat.  Then, when it collapsed in front of his eyes…well, I think the Maker took pity on him.”  
I sighed, relieved that, not only was Cailan and Duncan safe, it appeared that only Merrill was aware of my new-found mage abilities.  A large part of me was skeptical that I’d had anything to do with the storm, but in my heart...  Well, I just knew it was true.  Not only that, but I also felt different.  It felt as though I now had a fine layer of shifting sand just under my skin, constantly flowing and readjusting itself.  It should have felt itchy - like after a long day at the beach, where the sand just gets everywhere - but it was almost the opposite.  It was more like the fine sand I used to play in as a child - the smooth silky sand that had to be imported at exorbitant prices.

Running my hands gently over my forearms, I stared intently as if I could will myself to see the magic under my skin, but Merrill’s hand grabbed mine and squeezed in warning, before gentling.  
“I know you’re tired, Da’len,” she spoke softly, carefully catching my gaze, “But do you think you’re strong enough keep moving?”  
I nodded, “I feel fine now.  Thirsty and hungry, but otherwise I’m alright.  Do you think we’ll be able to catch up with the others before they reach Lothering?”  
Merrill glanced at Caver, who seemed to consider briefly before nodding.  “If we get moving now, we should reach them around dusk,” Carver rolled to his feet in one fluid move, then offered both hands down to both me and Merrill.  Pulling us to our feet, he continued, “Depending on how determined His Majesty is on getting into Lothering proper, we should be able to intercept them in time.  I assume it has something to do with these visions you talked about?  You realize you’re going to have to give more detail than that at some point.”  
I smiled and stretched briefly, taking the remaining pack that Merrill had been carrying from her and looping it over my shoulders, “I’m aware.  It’s a pretty outrageous story, but if what I’ve always believed of you pans out - you’ll have an open enough mind to give me a benefit of doubt.”

**Author's Note:**

> the formatting in this entire fic is absolutely horrific. Sadly, the HTML options available aren't the best, so my code-monkey brain is a little broken  
> (ノ ゜Д゜)ノ ︵ ┻━┻


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